Bathing in the moonlight's thirst
by KawairashiiShinigami
Summary: When you kill vampires for a living, nothing is as easy as you would like it to be. Too bad that Squalo had to learn it the hard way, after he met Xanxus, the Master of vampires. Longer summary inside. Xanxus/Squalo yaoi. M for later chapters.


**Title: **Bathing in the moonlight's thirst

**Rating:** M mostly for later chapters

**Anime: **_Katekyō Hitman Reborn!_

**Summary: **After getting shady jobs that would usually end his night with a bloody mess on his hands, Squalo gets another ugly assignment, this time from a mafia boss. Somebody is sending young vampires to drain Vongola members' bodies off of any last drops of blood and the only clue that Squalo has about who it might be is that the one who stands behind it all is called "Boss" by his fledglings. If the hunter thinks that finding the bloodsucking son of a bitch would be hard, then trying to make a profitable agreement with him would be simply impossible. Especially when the vamp takes a liking to Squalo in a way he wouldn't want any man to want him.

**Declaimer: **I do not own KHR

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They ran; a chaotic concert of footsteps, echoing dully in a dark alley, until one of them chose a route on the left, leading them to a crowded street.

They ran; a chase of two compatible creatures, pushing their bodies to their limits just to get what they desired – one to get away, the other to catch the runaway.

They ran; neither of them a normal human being, howbeit the one doing the chasing could still be proud to call himself "human" - never "normal", however.

They ran; a pray and a predator, though the metaphor was cruelly ironic since the pray happened to be a vampire – the bloodsucker - and the predator a hunter – the walking food.

They ran; a beast from nightmares and tales that scared children, and an armed, yet still harmless-looking, man.

And not even a glance was spared towards them, everything because nobody was yelling "stop that man", "he's trying to kill me!", or a clever "help, a thief!". There was nobody that honored the running two with his or her's attention, even though they pushed through rivers of people, shoving them to the side, selfishly making a way for themselves.

The vampire was young, merely a fledgling in the group, which made the hunter's job a thousand times easier. He was male, his human form still looking like he was in his teens, though the hunter knew that at least five years must had passed since the man had been changed – he could feel it. He gave him maximum twenty-two years of age, not more. If he was right, then they were the same age; both young and ready to get their lives totally screwed up.

Fortunately for the monster-assassin, the bloodsucker's age was an advantage for him. The younger the monster, the less control, or even knowledge, of his power he would have. It made the runaway an easy catch – or so the hunter thought, until the chase actually started. It turned out the guy was fast. Too fast for an average, everyday man in today's community, though not supernatural-like fast at the same time. It made the one doing the chasing wonder if the other male had been in a track team while still human. It didn't matter anyway, since the distance between them was getting smaller with every minute.

They finally reached the end of the street, leaving the vamp with a decision in hands – turn right or left? He chose right this time, ignoring the red light at the crosswalk and barely escaping being hit by a pick-up truck. The hunter tsk-ed before slowing down a bit, so that the car could pass, and then threw himself across the hood of a small SUV. Ignoring the loud protests of the car's driver and the beeping of his horn, the man forced his legs to move faster again. The distance between them was bigger now, but not large enough to discourage the hunter from the further chase; it wasn't that easy to get rid of him.

The vampire looked over his shoulder, not stopping or slowing down even for a millisecond. A satisfied smile stretched across his young, pale, and strangely feminine face. His chocolate-brown eyes gleamed with happiness and just a shadow of relief passed across the dark irises. He felt like a winner, the sensation of victory sinking down into his bones; there was no way the hunter would catch him now.

A pale hand moved toward his shaggy, black hair, trying to push it away from his chocolate-brown eyes. He felt confident, almost relaxed now, which didn't mean that, no matter how tempting it was, he could stop now and scream on the top of his lungs, to announce to the world that he was a one happy bloodsucker.

One of the pure-white eyebrows, which belonged to the hunter, raised itself questioningly, as he saw the brunet in front of him look back and smile at him. After the runaway took his time to move his hair away from his face, he stuck a tip of his tongue out at the vampire hunter.

Overconfident son of a bitch...

The monster-assassin gritted his teeth, trying his best not to scream a full of annoyance "Voooooooi!" at the bastard. He could do it, of course he could, but you can never be too careful with not leaving behind anything that others might remember you for. But then, it's almost impossible to simply "blend in" when you're a twenty-two year old man with waist-length white hair, that chases innocent-looking people almost every night, while dressed mostly in leather.

Life wasn't easy for that particular vampire hunter.

Suddenly, the brown-eyed man turned right, running into an alley again. The hunter rolled his eyes, taking the same route. But as he stepped into the alley, it turned out to be empty, as if the vamp realized that he had the power to disappear. The white-haired man stood still, panting, but listening at the same time. A metallic thud, as if something heavy fell on a piece of thin metal, voiced itself from above his head. White strands of hair fell backward as he looked up, narrowing the silver irises. That smartass used fire escape stairs and was now halfway up the old, run-down, eight-story building. The man cursed under his breath, before starting to climb up as well.

The stairs were old enough to moan under his every step with a painful screech of rusty metal, which made that "trip" even more interesting. Of course, the silver-eyed man wasn't the only one having problems with the old stairs; not long before the vampire could reach the roof of the building, he stepped on a spot that was just a bit too rusty to hold his weight. The metal gave out under the pressure the brunet put on it and simply broke, trapping the brown-eyed man. This time it was the bloodsucker's turn to curse, as he struggled to free his leg, while the hunter got closer and closer with every millisecond.

The vampire-killer was almost next to his prey, just few steps below the vamp, but the black-haired male wasn't going to give up. He pulled harder, using his supernatural strength, which helped him save his leg. Unfortunately, the force was enough to pull him back, make him loose his balance, and then crash his back into the window of one of the apartments, shattering the glass and pulling him inside. The creature gasped, shielding his eyes with his hands automatically, making himself fall on his ass on an old floor, covered with at least an inch of dust. Small pieces of glass stuck into the purple hoodie and black jeans he wore, but it didn't bother him at all at that very moment. He could hear the hunter getting closer.

Quickly, he staggered to his feet, making a cloud of dust float around him, but fell to his knees again. A loud thud could be heard behind his back and he knew that he wasn't the only one in the old room anymore. Suddenly, something pierced through his jeans, barely missing the skin of his leg, pinning him down to the floor. A pair of frightened, brown eyes turned towards the man behind him and only then did the vampire realize that he hadn't payed enough attention to his enemy's appearance.

The hunter was armed; armed with a sword. The sword was somehow attached to the top of his hand and the vampire knew that it wasn't there before, which made him wonder where did the blade come from. The fact that the weapon was pinning the immortal down meant that the hunter had to stand in an awkward position, his body hunched forward to that his arm could point down to the floor. Hiss long, white hair was pulled back in a messy mutation of a bun and a ponytail, letting only some of the white strands fall down his back and the rest stay at the top of his head. His shoulders weren't broad; in fact, from behind he probably looked like a woman. If not for the chest toned with hard muscles, the front could also be mistaken for a female's body, since his face wasn't exactly too masculine either. He was dressed in a pair of tight, leather pants, knee-length boots, and a high-collar, leather coat. The pants were tight enough for anyone to realize that he wore nothing underneath them.

They stared at each other for a moment or two, the bloodsucker not aware of the fact that the man was also examining the other's body.

Because comparing to the mortal, the vampire looked like a child.

His coal-black hair was cut right above his shoulders, giving him a cute, childish appearance; too long to look handsome, though too short to look overly feminine. His body wasn't muscular, more like simply skinny, and he would be short, if not for those long legs that somehow didn't seem to match the rest of his body. His face wasn't unattractive; high cheek bones, smooth-looking, but overly pale skin, and a dimple in his chin. If he wanted, he could have made a career as a male model. Unfortunately, kids this days are more into trading their souls for eternal life than into dream jobs.

"Ya gonna kill me now?", the brunet asked suddenly, his shaky voice slicing the silence shamelessly.

The corners of the white-haired man's lips moved, making it seem like he was stopping himself from laughing.

"I didn't chase you all night around the city just to get your phone number", he snorted, shaking his head. The motion looked strange thanks to his pose, making him look like a disappointed hunchback of Notre Dame.

"You're not my type, anyways", the vamp laughed, but nothing but a weak, forced sound escaped his lips.

"I can live with that", the human smiled, showing off two rows of straight, white teeth "Now, tell me, you leech...", something flickered in those cold, silver eyes, notifying the one on the floor that yes, the real fun starts now "Who sent you and your buddies to feed off of Vongola?"

The brunet seemed to lose even more color from his face, the pale skin now getting a greenish shade "Nobody"

A lie.

"Cut the shit, leech", the hunter's smile faded away, a grimace full of irritation substituting it immediately "There is no way that you and eight other bloodsuckers just decided to attack five members of an extremely powerful mafia. Your Master would never forgive you for starting a war", the brown-eyed male flinched as the word "Master" invaded the room "The question is... Who is your Master and why did he sent you, a fledgling, to do it?"

The immortal shook his head rapidly "I can't...", he mumbled, trying to hide his face with his hands, as if that could make him invisible "I can't, I promised Boss I..."

"Boss?", the vampire hunter titled his head to the side "Is he your Master?"

"I don't have a Master", the vamp mumbled again, peeking at the other from between his own fingers "You know, they told me about you. You're Superbi Squalo, the vampire hunter. The older vampires try to scare us, the newbies, with the tales of Squalo the Shark, just like you would scare a child. Now that I think about it, it must had been a warning...", he laughed again, the same ghost-like voice leaving his lips.

"I know I'm popular", the man pulled his sword, releasing his pray for a heartbeat, before he pressed the blade to the pale neck, almost gently "It's your last chance, leech, you better take it or die"

"Oh my, what a choice", the immortal pulled his hands away from his face, penetrated with nothing but pure fear. Despite his look, he smiled and used his shaky voice to spit out "Bite me"

The corners of Squalo's mouth twitched again, as he swung his weapon back, ready for a killing blow. The blade then sliced the air with a graceful "swoosh" sound, before cutting through the human-like creature's flesh and breaking the bone easily, as if it was made of porcelain. He ended it quickly in one movement; no torture, no more questions, no more answers – just pure kill.

And at the end, nobody was there to see the hunter's lips move in a silent prayer he had been saying while he killed the monster.

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**A/N**  
I've been planning on writing that thing for a long, long time, but somehow it ended up as a _Halloween fic _owo I can't say that I'm in love with that chapter, but I really hope that the next one is going to be at least a bit better :3 Please review, it helps, really ;]

Thank you for reading

**K.S.**


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